Chapter 3: Motel Doubts and Family Pressure

It was full dark by the time I left.

The cold night air stung my cheeks as I trudged to my car. Six hours on the road, and her family hadn’t even offered me a glass of water. My anger simmered as I drove into town and checked into a run-down motel.

Neon lights flickered outside my window. I sat on the lumpy bed, staring at the cracked ceiling, the silence pressing in until I finally FaceTimed my parents and spilled everything.

There was a long, heavy pause on the other end.

I finally asked, “If they want so much, do they even want this marriage?”

My dad said, “They only have one daughter. Maybe they’re just nervous, wanting her to be secure…”

But I could hear the worry in his voice. He was just afraid I’d back out.

My parents are old-school. They just want me to settle down. Before Savannah, they’d stop to play with every kid in the park, nudging me: “When are you going to give us a grandchild? That’s all we want.”

After I met Savannah, their new hobby was knitting—half a closet already filled with tiny sweaters for a grandkid that didn’t even exist yet.

Dad wanted a granddaughter, Mom wanted a grandson. After two seconds of arguing, they agreed: either would be perfect.

That pressure weighed on me, especially tonight.

It felt like just starting this journey was already a battle.

“Dad, this isn’t a small thing. $375,000, plus a condo for her brother? Aren’t they just treating us like an ATM?”

My mom sighed. “Your dad and I have always dreamed of retiring in the country. Selling the house wouldn’t be impossible…”

“Mom, come on. The country’s too far from everything. If something happened, who’d help you? I’d never forgive myself.”

“Eli, Savannah’s a good girl. Don’t lose her over money,” Dad said quietly. “We can work harder, figure out the dowry. Maybe her family will let you pay in installments…”

Their voices were gentle, but I could hear how tired they were. The weight of their hopes pressed down on me.